1. Slow down to explore. Discovery is facilitated by an unhurried attitude. We favor a relaxed yet attentive and prepared state of mind that is free of the checklists, deadlines, and other exigencies of the workday schedule. Resist the temptation to settle for quick closure and instead actively search for deviations, inconsistencies, and peculiarities that don’t quite fit. Often hidden among these anomalies are the clues that might challenge prevailing thinking and conventional explanations.

2. Read, but not too much. It is important to master what others have already written. Published works are the forum for scientific discourse and embody the accumulated experience of the research community. But the influence of experts can be powerful and might quash a nascent idea before it can take root. Fledgling ideas need nurturing until their viability can be tested without bias. So think again before abandoning an investigation merely because someone else says it can’ be done or is unimportant.

3. Pursue quality for its own sake. Time spent refining methods and design is almost always rewarded. Rigorous attention to such details helps to avert the premature rejection or acceptance of hypotheses. Sometimes, in the process of perfecting one’s approach, unexpected discoveries can be made. An example of this is the background radiation attributed to the Big Bang, which was identified by Penzias and Wilson while they were pursuing the source of a noisy signal from a radio telescope. Meticulous testing is a key to generating the kind of reliable information that can lead to new breakthroughs.

4. Look at the raw data. There is no substitute for viewing the data at first hand. Take a seat at the bedside and interview the patient yourself; watch the oscilloscope trace; inspect the gel while still wet. Of course, there is no question that further processing of data is essential for their management, analysis, and presentation. The problem is that most of us don’t really understand how automated packaging tools work. Looking at the raw data provides a check against the automated averaging of unusual, subtle, or contradictory phenomena.

5. Cultivate smart friends. Sharing with a buddy can sharpen critical thinking and spark new insights. Finding the right colleague is in itself a process of discovery and requires some luck. Sheer intelligence is not enough; seek a pal whose attributes are also complementary to your own, and you may be rewarded with a new perspective on your work. Being this kind of friend to another is the secret to winning this kind of friendship in return.

Although most of us already know these five precepts in one form or another, we have noticed some difficulty in putting them into practice. Many obligations appear to erode time for discovery. We hope that this essay can serve as an inspiration for reclaiming the process of discovery and making it a part of the daily routine. In 1936, in Physics and Reality, Einstein wrote, “The whole of science is nothing more than a refinement of everyday thinking.” Practicing this art does not require elaborate instrumentation, generous funding, or prolonged sabbaticals. What it does require is a commitment to exercising one’s creative spirit—for curiosity’s sake.

Sustainability and resilience are trans-disciplinary research areas that require communication among people from many different backgrounds. Communication benefits from being clear, and avoiding unnecessary jargon. Sometimes making the efforts to articulate thoughts clearly can significantly advance disciplinary knowledge.

During the height of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill disaster, I joined a group of engineers and other scientists to discuss the evidence for an oil plume, at least 22 miles long and about a mile wide, floating 3000 feet beneath the surface of the Gulf of Mexico. As the chemist in the group, I wondered aloud about how we could exploit the aqueous solubilities of the petroleum hydrocarbons, benzene, toluene, ethylbenzene, and total xylenes to understand plume formation. I suspected the key to knowledge lay in the plume’s chemical properties.

“Dude, you are speaking Romulan,” one of my colleagues blurted out. The engineers in the group gave me a look, and steered the conversation to the relative merits of different types of statistical processing of data collected in and around the plume. I don’t know from statistical processing, so I hit back: “Dude, you are speaking Romulan.”

As Star Trek fans know, Romulans are a race often at odds with the Federation (they later signed a peace treaty). Romulans speak in three dialects and write with square or rectangular letters. Telling your colleague that he or she is speaking Romulan is a friendly way of saying, “I don’t understand you,” or that you are using jargon, speaking too fast, using acronyms, or jumping over the natural progression of an argument or idea.

What is surprising is that we have these communication breakdowns despite my colleagues also being my friends. We work at the same institution. I have been to sea with them. I know their dogs, eat dinner at their homes, and jointly lament the standing of the Red Sox. Even though we know each other well, our differing scientific specializations can cause us to speak different languages. For us, our small group was willing to recognize these differences and set the ground rules for using the “Romulan phrase.”

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Almost every pressing scientific and environmental problem demands the attention of scientists from diverse disciplines as well as the expertise of economists, planners, and sociologists. With a little effort and less ego, we need to aim for a lingua franca that can be understood by a politician, a shrimp farmer, a toxicologist, a lawyer, an accountant, and a Romulan, too.